


The Mirror of Erised

by ComfortableSilences



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Dirty Talk, Dom Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Explicit Consent, F/M, Happy Ending, Mirror Sex, Mirror of Erised, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Secrets, Sex, Smut, Sub Hermione Granger, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23024578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComfortableSilences/pseuds/ComfortableSilences
Summary: Draco Malfoy discovers the Mirror of Erised in the room of requirement, what he sees in the mirror reminds him of why he can never be a true Death Eater.Years later, he betrays the Dark Lord, rescuing Harry Potter and the other captives in Malfoy Manor in exchange for protection for himself and his mother. But what will he do when he is faced with the ultimate test of his true intentions upon his arrival- a supervised visit to the Mirror of Erised. And what will he do when the object of his desire is supervising his test.Based on a prompt from my best writer friend DirtyMudblood <3
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 171
Kudos: 981
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works, Good Girl Hermione, Kelly's Picks, Seggy





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dirtymudblood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtymudblood/gifts).



> Dedicated to my 'secret lover' DirtyMudblood.

It wouldn’t work. He’d tried fucking everything and it just wouldn’t work. He lifted the crisp green apple from its dark hiding place in the middle of the cupboard and threw it as far as he could manage into the room. He stood breathless and panting as he ran his hands up his face, pushing his tears into his hair. 

The sound of glass shattering somewhere in the room brought back his attention as he jolted in surprise. Fear immediately gripping his senses. He stared off in its direction as three other loud bangs rang out in the quiet room. He held his breath for a moment before he started towards the sound, taking slow weary steps towards the disturbance. The old floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he edged closer. This room was filled with all kinds of dangerous artefacts, he had to be careful. 

He walked until he found the apple lying innocently on the floor next to a collection of shattered glass jars. He breathed a sigh of relief, the damage was relatively safe. He had never ventured this far into the room before. He bent over and picked the apple up from the floor. He caught movement in the corner of his eye that made him drop the apple and draw his wand, finding he was only pointing it at his own reflection. 

He stared at the boy looking back at him, and he could feel the hairs prick up on the back of his neck. Something felt...magical about his mirror. He could feel it’s magic penetrate his mind, slipping past his mental walls. It should have felt intrusive, but somehow it felt...comforting. At least the closest thing of comfort he had felt in weeks. 

He felt drawn to it, he hadn’t even realised his feet had been moving towards it until he was close enough to touch it. He reached his hand out slowly creeping it towards the glass and stopped dead when he noticed two hands creep around his waist in his reflection. He stood petrified to the spot as the hands trailed up and down his sides. 

He could see them in the mirror, but he felt no trace of them at his sides. He frantically looked down, tapping his waist for signs of the ghostly hands. But there was nothing, whatever existed there only existed in the mirror. He relaxed, reaching down to pick up the apple at his feet. 

When he returned upright the hands were still there, sensually massaging his hips and legs. He watched them start at his calf and work their way farther up his leg, kneading his muscles in an almost worshipping way. His breath became shallower and shallower the closer they came to his crotch, he found himself mesmerised by the mirrors display. He sucked his breath in when the hands finally made it to his now growing bulge. They caressed and stroked up the length of him through his trousers and Draco felt like he may never breathe right again. 

The hands suddenly retreated, as if merely teasing him. Draco blinked to try and gather himself, it was as if he had never seen them there at all. He frowned at the mirror, what a time to mess with him. He had work to do, just as he was about to walk off he noticed something move behind his leg. Next to his foot, a long slender leg complete with a red platform heel stepped out. Once again Draco found himself entranced by the mirror, as the silhouette of a woman in a red lace lingerie set slowly crept into his vision, revealing inch by inch of her tanned flawless skin. 

His attention drew back to his own reflection as it separated itself from him, stepping to the side to reveal...Hermione Granger. Draco clenched his jaw tight at the sight of her, her tight little body adorned with red lace, the wild hunger in her gaze only matched by the wild curls overtaking her head. She seemed to look at him for a moment as if she truly _saw_ him before she slowly smiled and turned to his reflection. His reflection tilted his head at her, looking down at her in disgust, this didn’t seem to bother Hermione at all. In fact, it rather looked like she liked it? 

His reflection pointed his finger at her and quickly shot back down to point to the floor. Hermione smiled and leant down onto her knees directly in front of his reflection, her ass rounded out by her crumpled position on the floor. 

His reflection leaned down and stroked her face, she leaned into the touch like a kitten, and when he swiped his thumb against her plump lips she easily opened them for him, he held his thumb steady and she swiped her tongue against it. He shoved his thumb into her mouth and she received it with great pleasure, sucking her cheeks hollow to increase the suction around it. 

It was all Draco could face. A wave of disgust overcame him. This was why he couldn’t fix the cabinet, couldn’t do what he needed to do, why he would never make his father proud and why he likely wouldn’t survive under Voldemort. He had desperately tried to block this side of himself, and now he was directly faced with his own _perversion;_ his _wrongness_. 

He shut his eyes, no longer looking at the scene from his wildest dreams in front of him. What use was it? He would never have her like this, he shouldn’t want her like this. She’s just a Mudblood, below him. He couldn’t sully himself to her, and he couldn’t let the Dark Lord know he wanted to. Without the sight in front of him, he managed to take the first steps away from the mirror, releasing it’s grip on him. He vowed to himself he would never look in that mirror again. 

What he couldn’t escape though, was the pain of his cock straining against his trousers reminding him of how weak he really was. 

* * *

Draco had actually done it. He had been faced with his chance and he had taken it. He helped them escape under the condition they took him and his mother with them. He had never felt more relieved, even if he was currently blindfolded and handcuffed to Weasley. He tried his best to climb the stairs without tripping, nearly impossible given the three flights of uneven stairs they climbed. He’d counted. 

By the time they finally released him from Weasley he had been sat and tied to a chair. He stared into the dark abyss of his blindfold, unsure of where he was or what was happening. He wasn’t even sure there was someone else in the room until the blindfold was pulled from his vision and he came face to face with Hermione Granger. 

He swallowed, she was the last person he knew what to say to. The girl who’d almost got him killed until he found a way to twist his memory last moment in front of the Dark Lord. She folded her arms and just stared at him, evaluating. 

He decided to take this moment to look around the room, it was entirely wooden, and completely empty except for a large rectangle in the middle of the room covered by a canvas sheet. 

‘Where am I?’ he asked, confused. 

‘You’re at a safe house. You should be safe here,’ she stopped her evaluation of him and looked down at her boots, ‘I heard about what you did for Harry. It was actually quite brave.’ 

Draco swallowed, unable to answer. The truth was his reasonings were selfish, he wanted his mother out of the Dark Lord’s grip and ultimately, he wanted Potter to win, the Dark Lord would make life miserable if he won the war. That wasn’t the kind of world he wanted to usher in. 

‘Unfortunately, any defectors have to go through the same test. You’re no different, even after everything you’ve been through.’ 

She walked to the large rectangle and held the sheet in her hand, ‘Do you know what this is yet?’ 

‘No,’ he replied, though his heart sank in fear for what it could be. 

‘It’s the Mirror of Erised, it shows us our deepest desire.’ 

‘Please...don’t Hermione’ 

‘Draco, do you have something to hide?’

‘No! ...But yes...But don’t we all. Do we not all deserve a bit of privacy?’ 

‘Not when it puts lives at stake, Malfoy. That’s why it’s only me in here. You need to look into the mirror or I’m afraid we can’t help you or your mother.’

Draco closed his eyes and wondered why life was so consistently cruel to him, that she of all people would be performing this test on him. He gathered what was left of his courage, and forced all his energy into his walls. 

‘Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ he said, surprising himself with the deep strength projected in his voice. 

* * *

Hermione stared at the man tied up across the room. She’d heard everything that had happened, how he had taken punishments before by faking incompetence to help The Order, how he had turned his back on Voldemort at just the right time to save Harry when all hope was lost. The entire Order was indebted to him, without him their rebellion would have been over yesterday, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they were all wrong when he acted so shifty about this mirror. What could possibly be so bad he would practically beg her not to show? 

Either way, whatever was on the other side of that mirror they needed to see it, better to find out sooner rather than later if he is not who he seems to be. 

‘I’m going to take the sheet down now, you have to look at it directly. I will tell you when I am satisfied with what I see. Then I will make my recommendation to The Order.’ 

He nodded, and she tugged on the giant sheet, letting it flow onto the wooden floor. When the mirror was revealed she chose to watch him. He pursed his lips tight and she could see his shoulders shake as he tried to fight it. Eventually, he relaxed back into his seat as the mirror comforted him as it pulled his desire from him. 

Hermione took slow and careful steps to stand where she could see the mirror, staying out of its reflection lest she influence his test. What she saw in the mirror horrified her, another version of herself standing behind him, her hands placed delicately on his shoulders, decorated with a huge emerald ring. The fake Hermione stepped out from behind him in tall black heels, suspenders and a black lace bra peeking out of a mostly unbuttoned white shirt. The most offending item, however, had to be the tiniest little school skirt barely covering her ass. 

It was the last thing she had expected from Draco Malfoy, she watched stunned as the reflection Draco slipped out of his bonds and spread his thighs wider, slapping his hand against his lap. Hermione stood shocked still watching herself happily climb onto his lap...revealing a distinct lack of underwear. She was faced with the sight of her own pussy, pink and swollen in arousal on his lap. She looked over to the real Draco, very aware of the fact that he was currently being forced to see something so intimate of her, but it was actually her seeing the most intimate part of him. She shocked herself to find her nipples growing harder at the thought, he _wanted_ her, no matter what he had said or done before, this was the true Draco Malfoy, and he wanted her desperately. She shuffled her arms, folding them tighter around her body to hopefully hide her reaction, even if there was little chance he would see through the thick wool of her jumper. His jaw was set tight, and he refused to look at her, choosing instead to stare at the scene in front of him unflinchingly. 

She looked back at the mirror and watched the reflection Draco slip his hand under her skirt, rubbing his hand across her ass, making smooth large circles across the surface area. The Hermione in the mirror pushed her ass harder up against his hand, giggling delightedly in his lap. Suddenly he pulled his hand back and slapped her hard enough to leave a red handprint in the skin they could see, but the reflection Hermione didn’t seem to mind. In fact, despite not being able to hear anything, it looked like she howled out in pleasure at the touch. 

As if sensing her confusion, the Draco in the mirror locked eyes with her, and it was like something electric happened in the room. Hermione suddenly felt like she was a part of this fantasy, like he was putting on this show for her, and it shot straight between her legs. She crossed one leg over the other, and he smirked at her as if he knew exactly what she was doing. 

He kept his smile locked on her as he lifted up the reflection Hermione’s skirt completely and revealed a circular diamond where her asshole should be. Hermione’s jaw fell open when she watched him smack her ass again this time on the other cheek painting her arse a beautiful pink colour. Reflection Hermione called out in pleasure, circulating her hips at him as he rubbed against the tender flesh. He spanked her once more, and the real Hermione recoiled as if she could hear the smack of it herself. This time Draco’s hand slid under her rather than onto her cheek, and he rubbed her clit in circles while she gyrated and whined in his lap. Hermione’s mouth was open in shock, but the sight of him bringing her close to orgasm closed her jaw slightly, and she found it impossible to resist panting through her open mouth. Her heart rate falling in tempo with the speed her reflection rocked against his hand like it was her salvation. He reached around with his other hand and spanked her lightly while she was rubbing herself against his hand. He was saying something to her but she couldn’t make out what it was. He left his spanking to touch the diamond plug in her arse, tapping it in a rhythm sending her body into shakes. Just as she was about to orgasm he pulled all stimulation away. They watched as her body grew limp with disappointment. 

She had never felt as dirty as she did now, watching herself be dominated by the man in front of her. She looked over to Draco, finding his face as blank as before if anything he simply looked angry by the way his eyebrows sat lower than usual. 

She returned her eyes to the mirror as Dom Draco rubbed his hand against her ass again, soothing and rubbing the aching skin there. He then reached for the diamond, tugging and releasing it enough to make the reflection Granger throw her head back, sending her curls whipping across her back. His hand started creeping slow circles back onto her clit, on display for the real Draco and her to watch. Eventually, he didn’t release the diamond again and simply pulled it the entire way out of her, revealing a silver plug that had been buried in her ass. 

He brought the plug to her face and held her neck, encouraging her to open her mouth. The fake Hermione stuck her tongue out flat, and he held the plug steady allowing her to lick and suck at it before shoving it into her mouth all together. The Hermione seemed to love it, licking her tongue against the plug in her mouth even after he had moved his attention back to the ass in his lap. 

Hermione was completely speechless, she doubted she had the breath to speak anyway. She was ashamed to say the throbbing between her legs had reached an almost unbearable level. She felt on the cusp of coming herself just from watching him play with her body, doing things she never knew she even wanted. She glanced at the real Draco, turned on that this was how he thought of her deep in his head.

He spread her cheeks apart and licked the now-empty hole, delighting in how she pushed her ass farther into him, he increased the speed he rubbed her clit at, and once again her body began to shake. Hermione could see that the plug was the only thing stopping her screaming once her orgasm hit. She violently shivered in his clutches as she ground out her orgasm on his hand. The hand gripping his ankle tensed to capacity.

Hermione found herself surprisingly jealous of herself in the mirror. The girl lay lifeless on his lap, panting against his knees. 

‘I think that’s enough, Granger!’ the real Draco shouted from his seat. His pained hoarse voice awakening her from her trance. 

‘Yes, quite,’ she jolted awkwardly and walked over to where he sat, she pushed some of her hair out of her face, trying to relieve some of the heat on her cheeks. 

She started to undo the cuffs and ropes keeping him in the chair, ‘ I’m sorry I…’ 

‘Yes, just take me out of these bloody bindings.’

She nodded and released him. As he stood from his seat she suddenly felt very vulnerable with him in the room. He stood much taller than her and was much stronger. She realised that she had failed to back away from him an appropriate distance when she looked up at him. She was entirely too close to him, she swallowed as they held eye contact. He fixed his feet, turning his entire body to face her directly, ‘One word to anyone Granger,’ he growled. 

He had just threatened her, and all she wanted to do was lean up on her tiptoes and kiss him after what she saw. But instead, she simply nodded her head and spun her back to him, opening the door where Harry and Ron waited anxiously for the results, ‘He’s fine,’ she said out into the corridor and was nearly trampled by Draco eagerly leaving the room. 

As she watched him descend down the stairs followed by Ron and Harry she had a feeling something had fundamentally shifted between them, and she was surprised to find herself curious about it. 

She closed the door and walked towards the mirror, picking up the sheet they used to cover it. When she looked in the mirror she didn’t see herself, all she saw was him standing looking back at her. He kept his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers and looked back at her defiantly like he was pleased with himself. It was the exact same type of glee his face used to have in the Hogwarts days when he had just succeeded in getting her into trouble. She frowned at him and threw the sheet over the mirror again rendering it useless. 

She slammed the door behind her, locking it and putting up every ward she could think of. As she turned and walked down the stairs she spoke aloud Dumbledore’s wise words to Harry, ‘It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.’ 

* * *

He was avoiding her she was sure of it. 

He sat as far from her as he could manage at dinner, the only time she ever really saw him. The rest of the time she saw glimpses of black clothing and white hair disappear around the corner or up the stairs, or out the door. 

She was sick of it, walking around on eggshells, particularly when she was plagued with him. She couldn’t get the intensity of his eyes staring at her through the mirror from her mind. Every time she saw him she was brought back to that moment, watching herself come underneath him. Every time she stole time alone in her bed and she touched herself she saw his eyes, she saw him smirking at her, owning her, pleasuring her. And every single time she came with his grey eyes burned into the back of her eyelids. 

She often wondered if she had been too close to the mirror, was a fantasy of hers creeping into the scene, was that why his reflection targeted her. Sometimes she imagined the most embarrassing answer to the question, could the real Draco see she was affected by what she saw and liked it. 

She just couldn’t take not knowing anymore. She leapt off her bed and pulled a cardigan around the tank top she used to sleep in. She crept out into the corridor and began to creep up the stairs to his room. When she reached his door she hesitated with her hand just above the wood, eventually, she closed her eyes and gave three distinct knocks and she waited. 

She pulled her cardigan closer around her body, trying to keep the chill from hardening her nipples before she spoke to him. She heard movement inside the room, shuffling and then footsteps towards the door. 

When the door opened she gasped, there he stood in front of her, wiping the sleep from his eyes. She had expected him to be in all silk emerald pyjamas, likely with a DM embroidered pretentiously into the fabric. But there was no fabric to place it. The only thing he wore was grey pyjama bottoms hanging loosely from his hips. She was face to face with his naked chest, something in her wanted to trace along the scars with her fingertips, her hand almost moved when… 

‘Can I help you, Granger? You are aware this is the middle of the night?’ his sleepy voice brought her attention back to his face. His hair lay shaggy and ruffled around his head, not nearly the neat and tidy version of himself she usually saw. 

‘I just thought we should...talk. After what happened.’ 

He took a deep breath, stiffening his body and hardening his facial features. 

‘Can I come in?’ she asked quietly. 

‘No,’ he answered, stepping back to close the door in front of her. 

She slammed her hand against it, suddenly angry that he would turn her away without any answers, ‘Well do you want to have this conversation _through_ the door then? I’m sure if I shout loud enough you’ll hear me,’ she tilted her head and smiled sarcastically at him. 

They stared at each other for a moment, he narrowed his eyes at her but she held her smile. She realised when she saw his eyes glance down that she was no longer holding her cardigan closed, part of her hoped her top wasn’t revealing too much and the other part hoped it tortured him. 

Reluctantly he stepped back, ‘fine,’ opening the door for her and stepping out of the way. She walked into the room, noting irritatingly that it was more spacious than hers, but he had barely anything in it. She had stuffed every wall she had with books. 

She heard the sound of him closing the door, followed by several silencing charms, ‘So, now you’ve barged your way in here what do you want to talk about, Granger?’ 

She spun around to look at him, her ponytail swinging around her shoulders, ‘What do I want to talk about, Malfoy? What else could I want to talk about? I want to talk about what happened in there...with the mirror’ she spat out in one breath. 

He had the decency to look sheepishly down at the floor, but it only lasted for a moment. He straightened his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest, ‘what about it?’

‘You’re going to act casual? After I saw your greatest desire is to fuck me...like that?’ 

‘I didn’t fuck you, Granger.’ 

‘Oh don’t play stupid with me, Malfoy, we knew it was headed there. And you’ve avoided me for weeks afterwards why didn’t you…’

‘You know, for the _brightest witch of her age_ ,’ he held his hands up and rolled his eyes into the ceiling, ‘you can be really fucking dense sometimes, Granger.’ 

‘Then enlighten me, Malfoy!’ 

‘It wasn’t the fucking fucking!’ he yelled. He rubbed his hands up and down his face, ‘It was the fucking ring! That I bet you never even noticed!’ 

‘She had a huge emerald ring...I...I saw it but I didn’t think any of it. What is it?’ 

Draco stood panting in his anger, looking anywhere in the room but at her. He walked over to the lone desk in his room and leaned his hands against the wooden chair, his shoulders pushed up, stretching the muscles in his back. 

‘It’s the Malfoy ring,’ he said, sounding quiet and defeated, ‘You’re always wearing it...Every time.’ 

‘You’ve seen the mirror before?’ 

‘Every day of Sixth year.’

‘Draco...do you love me?’ 

His hands tightened against the wood in the chair so strong it gave out a squealing creak in protest, ‘I won’t answer that. Get out, Hermione.’ 

It was the vulnerability in his voice behind his anger that pushed her feet to move. She wrapped her cardigan around her body and shot out of his room, taking one last look at him, his head hung low into his chest. She didn’t speak a word when she lightly closed the door behind her and walked back to her bedroom in a daze. 

* * *

The next morning he was gone. 

She had gone looking for him when she heard he had been sent on a mission with the Order, and he wouldn’t be back for at least a week. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had organised it himself until Molly explained their mission. They were organising a rescue for hostages in Malfoy Manor. He was the only one except for his mother who could get them past the traps and wards, assuming they didn’t change it all the moment he left. 

Ever since she had worried sick about him. She worried she would never get to tell him that what she saw in the mirror that night affected her too, that every time she touched herself it was his hands she pictured bringing her to orgasm, and that she was open to giving it a try if he was. 

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up into the door of attic space. She gripped onto the bannister, hoping it would stop her feet from moving, but nevertheless she took a step up. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in a week, and she just needed…

She reached the door and raised her wand, taking apart the complicated locks and charms she had placed on the door. She creaked open the door, hoping no one could hear her footsteps as she closed it behind her and began walking towards the ominous object in the middle of the room. 

She stared at the canvas, feeling the mirror calling to her, feeding off her desires more and more the closer she got to the mirror. It was like she took a backseat in her own head as she watched the mirror get closer, watched her hand reach out and grip the canvas and pull it hard off the mirror. 

She stared at herself standing alone in the ancient glass and waited. Exactly as she thought the door cracked open in the mirror. She was tempted to look behind her but the silence in her ears was enough to let her know it was all in her head. 

She stared at the figure closing the door behind himself in the mirror and had to remind herself none of this was real. He turned and beamed a smile at her, genuine happiness, the kind she hadn’t seen on his face for years. She couldn’t help but smile back at him as he strode eagerly to get closer to her.

She watched as he wrapped his arms around her reflection, and instantly felt empty. Some stupid part of her expected to feel his arms around her, to feel him turn his head into her hair and try to kiss her cheek. He pulled her hair away from her neck and began kissing a trail up and down it. The reflection closed her eyes and sighed as he latched onto her ear, a hand at her hip pulling her ass against him. A small tear fell down her cheek as the reflection lifted her hand to cover his at her hip, complete with an extravagant emerald ring. 

Hermione closed her eyes, letting another tear fall from her cheek. She kept her eyes closed as she bent down, reaching for the canvas. She threw it back over the mirror, only opening her eyes when the threat was gone. She turned her back to it and walked back towards the wooden door. If he made it out of this mission alive, she knew what she needed to do. 

* * *

Miraculously, no one had been hurt and they’d gotten the hostages from Malfoy Manor. They’d even managed to grab his father, as per his mother’s request, who was currently being taken to join her at another safe house. He was glad he had finally listened to reason, when he saw his father again he looked broken. Without Draco or his mother with him, he had finally broken and actually helped the Order hostages escape, leaving a gaping hole in Voldemort’s ranks. 

He walked through the small hall of Grimmauld Place, having to shimmy past the reunited couples and families he had managed to save. Ron slapped him on the shoulder as he passed, letting go of Lavender Brown just long enough to give him a hug, ‘Thanks for your help mate,’ he said into his shoulder. He merely smiled back at him when Ron pulled away to pull his witch into him. 

He couldn’t describe the feeling, finally being on the right side, being able to actually rejoice in the celebrations of the others. He stood taller, no longer weighed down by his conscience. He didn’t even have to worry about his father anymore. 

He made it about six steps up the stairs when he turned back and smiled at the people below him. It was almost like it was happening in slow motion, as people hugged one person before jumping onto another, crying hysterical tears of joy with each new loved one they were presented with. 

Something in him still felt empty, even with his parents alive and well. He looked around at the couples, some slowly starting to break away from the crowd. He saw Neville take Hannah Abbot by the hand into the drawing-room, the next thing he saw were her feet swinging as he picked her up and spun her in a more private embrace. 

He felt like a damn Hufflepuff when he felt something in him itch at that. He wished he was running into the arms of his witch when he arrived home. He had earned the trust of these people, but he knew he would have no welcoming party awaiting him. He frowned down at his shoes and continued up the stairs, reminding himself that the witch he wanted didn’t return his feelings and it was best if he focused on surviving this war, finding another decent witch he could spend his life with when it was all over. That’s what he told himself anyway as he crept up the seemingly endless flights of stairs to his room. 

He adjusted his bag on his shoulder as he hunted in his pockets for his key. He finally pushed it into the lock and to his complete surprise, his door inched forward with the slightest of pressure. It was already unlocked.

He barged through the door suddenly hoping to catch whoever was snooping around in his room red-handed. What he saw made the bag on his shoulder slip off to the floor. Hermione Granger was sitting on her knees in the middle of his room, wearing her old school uniform, but not the way she used to wear it. 

He could barely breathe when he noticed the leather straps crisscrossing across her chest through the large gap in her shirt. He took another step into the room, closing the door behind him, before he made his way to her. Stopping just short of her small form below him. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he pressed his thumb against her lower lip, smudging her red lipstick onto it, ‘Hermione, what are you doing?’ he said softly. 

‘Giving you everything you ever wanted,’ she said, deliberately brushing her lip against his thumb making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.


	2. Green Glass

He stared down at her immaculate face as her full lip bounced back into place resting softly against her teeth. She was beautiful, her huge brown eyes looking up at him with a delicious mix of nervousness and excitement. There she was below him, staring up at him, prepared to give up her control to him. He was eager to just let her there and then, the blood already beginning to pump downwards at the mere sight of her, but he took a deep breath and bent down level with her signalling a break in their roles. He slid his hand from her chin to cup her jaw, her untamed hair brushing against the back of his hands. 

His mind raced as he stared at her. His eyes darting from her half-closed eyes to her half-open lips. She had gotten him by surprise, and there was so much he needed to know before they embarked on any of this. He’d given this years of thought but had she? Did she even know what she wanted? If she didn’t know how was he supposed to? He wanted nothing more than to watch her face twist into pleasure under him, he wanted to know her body better than she did. He had so many questions, did she want _him_ or the kind of play he offered? Did she think she had to play like this to have him? She was on her knees for him but he felt like the powerless one, he would take her in any way she offered herself to him. He’d worship at her altar until she cried if she asked him to. 

‘You want this too?’ he whispered, hardening his grip on her face but softening the blow with a gentle swipe of his thumb against her cheek. 

‘Yes,’ she replied, more breath than voice. 

She ran her tongue out over her lips, and he realised he’d been staring hard at them. His vision swathed in red. He looked up to see her return his stare, her eyes fixed on his lips. She blinked and it was like slow motion to him, her soft lashes brushed against her cheek and curled back with her eyelid as she opened her eyes. A lesser man may have flinched from the intensity of her gaze. Her eyes were dark and wild, a dare to action, and a promise of obedience all in the wide black pupils taking over the honey in her brown eyes. 

He would like to say he _decided_ to accept her invitation, but she pulled him closer to her with just her stare. At her silent request, he closed the gap between them. He moved slowly at first, as if she could somehow come to her senses and run away from the wolf breathing into her face. She didn’t. Instead, he felt her own breath harder against his cheeks the closer he got to her. His lip brushed against hers, and it was past the point of no return. He sucked her lip gently between his, and to his complete shock, she leaned closer into him, pushing off her haunches to greedily chase his lips. He allowed her the boldness, returning her increased pressure with his own. He swept his tongue against the lip between his and she moaned, easily opening her mouth to allow her tongue to touch his. The second their tongues connected it hit him in full force like her tongue had struck a nerve connected directly to his cock, each swipe of her tongue sent sensation across the head, a desperate pulse demanding to be touched. 

She shuffled in her place on the floor, trying to get closer to him and it brought him out of his stupor. The hand cupped around her jaw swivelled around to the side of her throat, and pulled her gently backwards. The problem still remained. She had left him in an impossible dilemma. He wanted to dominate her, he wanted to take her control she offered so willingly, but she had skipped the part where he figured out what it was that gave her pleasure. 

It was with the confused look in her eyes that the idea came to him, and it took everything in him not to smirk like a cat when he found the answer to his problems. ‘Hermione, you’re going to listen very carefully. Green means yes, orange means be careful, and red means absolutely not. If you say red, I will stop everything, no matter what. Do you understand?’ 

She nodded her head eagerly and waited patiently for him to continue. Seeing her so easily obedient was fucking torture for him. 

‘Good girl,’ he let the hand at her jaw loosen as he rose. ‘Keep those eyes on me,’ he said as his hand finally slipped from her face. Looking down at her he had to focus his entire attention on her face, and not the fast-rising breasts pushing against the tight leather straps hidden under her shirt before he lost control of himself completely. 

‘Do you trust me?’ he slipped the button of his cloak loose and slipped it from his shoulders. He’d asked the most important question first. Everything else depended on her answer. He tried to act like he wasn’t trying to swallow his heart back down into his chest. 

‘Green,’ she answered surprisingly quickly. 

He allowed himself a little self-satisfied smirk before he slipped his cloak around her shoulders. She grabbed onto the fabric that fell around her arms before she looked up at him in confusion. He could almost see the rejection building on her face until he held his hand out to her, ‘Then come with me.’ 

She took his hand obediently and rose to her feet, even with her heels she was still smaller than him. He pulled her in closer to his chest, and whispered into her hair, ‘anytime you want to stop, say red and everything stops, I promise.’ 

He felt her nod against his chest, followed by a quiet but assured, ‘green.’ 

* * *

Hermione had a feeling she knew where she was. The familiar smell of wood accompanying the creaks of the old floorboards underneath her feet was a solid clue. She stared into the back of Draco’s tie, her eyelashes pressed hard against the darkness. Anticipation tingled along her arms, travelling in close companionship with a little bit of fear. It was a strange kind of fear, an exciting, nerve inducing fear, the unknown, the uncontrollable. She smiled and pulled her lip into her mouth, leaning into the tickle that spread across her chest into the tips of her nipples that rubbed against the material of her shirt through the thin mesh of her bra. She couldn’t believe this was happening. He was here, somewhere. She could feel his eyes on her just as surely as if it was his hands running along her frame. She waited patiently, even as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as though his breath was brushing across them. 

The sweeping sound of fabric hitting the floor broke through her sensory blackout, a wave of cold air rippling across the thin nylon stretched across her legs. She shivered for a moment, half from the sudden gust and half from adrenaline. 

‘There’s a score we need to settle, Granger.’ 

Her instincts desperately tried to pinpoint the location of the menacing voice coming from somewhere in the dark. When slow torturous footsteps joined it, striking an oxymoronic rhythm to the pulse settling between her legs, her mind raced but she didn’t dare move. 

‘You’ve seen inside my head,’ more footsteps, circling wide around her like a wolf closing in on a rabbit, ‘I think it’s only fair…’ fingers trailed up the side of her arm. His touch was feather-light, but she shivered against his fingertips at how his breath tickled against the back of her ear, ‘...I get to see what goes on in that _filthy_ mind of yours too.’ 

Her lips fell open when he called her filthy, releasing a traitorous breath giving away how she really felt. Not that the breath was the only sign. When his hand brushed up the side of her neck she tilted her head with its gentle pressure, surrendering her neck to him. He ran his nose along the side of her throat, his breath loud in her ears, turning the nerves in her neck over-sensitive. Animal instinct told her to panic, to pull away from him and protect the vulnerable jugular vein his lips were currently ghosting over. But she offered himself up to him, only sighing when his lips connected against the spot with a slowly increasing pressure. 

‘You like it when I call you filthy don’t you?’ she could hear the delight in his rumbling voice. It might as well have rumbled between her legs given her reaction, ‘That’s the thing about you, Granger. You bounce around with your loose shirts...big jumpers...long skirts...but I see who you really are.’ His voice rumbled against the vein in her neck, attaching itself to her pulse and sending the thrill of it through her bloodstream to the rest of her body, ‘You want to be my filthy girl, don’t you?’ 

She did. She really fucking did. Especially when he spoke like that. She swallowed against the hand at her throat, before she timidly replied, ‘yes,’ surprised at the weakness in her voice.

‘Say it,’ his lips swiped across the skin at her neck. 

‘I want…’ she found it hard to continue, a blush rising in her cheeks at the shame of it. It was one thing to admit she wanted it to herself, it was another entirely to say it out loud...to him...so...directly. 

‘You were bold enough to sit on your knees in my bedroom waiting for me in this sexy little outfit,’ she felt her skirt waft up fleetingly, he’d clearly lifted it up teasingly with his hand. She was glad he hadn’t lifted it up all the way, she wasn’t quite ready yet to show him the surprise she held underneath it. She was obviously a lot bolder picking the outfit when the thought of him seeing it wasn’t so...present.

‘Don’t tell me the Gryffindor girl’s lost her courage.’ The mocking tone in his voice should have repulsed her, she should have said red and walked right out of the room. But she didn’t, she pressed her thighs closer together trying to still some of the rapid throbbing building between them.

‘I want to be your filthy girl,’ she ushered out in one breath. The second she said it her cheeks flamed, embarrassed and ashamed of what she had admitted to him so openly. 

‘Gooood girl,’ with one short phrase her embarrassment was gone, replaced by a warm feeling of satisfaction at pleasing him that spread across her lower abdomen and settled in the wet building between her legs, ‘I like it when you admit to me what you want. What _do_ you want, Hermione?’ the hand at her neck tightened, and she instinctively blinked in surprise, her lashes fighting against the material pulled tight to her eyes. Her head tilted even higher, if she could see she would be staring at the wooden apex at the ceiling. ‘Where do you want me to touch you first?’ he whispered harshly against her jugular. 

She knew the answer right away, the mental image of her squirming with his hand between her thighs raiding her mind as if the material across her eyes was a dark blank canvas. She sucked in an involuntary breath at the thought, and her nipples brushed harder against the mesh pulling them taut. ‘My chest,’ she said without thinking, the admission flowing more freely than the thing demanding attention. 

‘Mmmm’ he hummed against her neck, clearly pleased at her suggestion. The pressure on her neck relaxed, and she would have missed the feeling of his hand there if she didn’t already feel his chest against her back and his hands settling on her waist. The sensitive skin prickled even through her shirt, as though it was just as eager to push past the fibres as it was to hide behind them. 

His hands pushed upwards towards her breasts and she leaned back into him. When they slid up the curves and cupped her breasts she threw her head back over his shoulder as he tightened his grip around them. She hoped it would give him a better view, she wanted him to watch, she wanted to hear him make that humming sound touching her. 

He didn’t disappoint. A sudden tug against her chest, followed by the sound of little bounces across the floor entered her awareness. He’d ripped her shirt open. The cold air caressed across her breasts, barely protected. She _felt_ a soft growl against her back, ‘Is this for me, Granger?’ 

A soft smile spread across her face. She had gone to great trouble in the middle of a war to acquire the item now holding her breasts upright. It would have been a delicate sort of bralette if it weren’t for the see-through mesh not bothering to hide her nipples and the several leather straps crisscrossing across her chest, ‘yes,’ she breathed excitedly, pleased with herself that he enjoyed it. 

Her self-satisfaction soon melted into sensation when his fingers latched onto her nipples poking out defiantly against the material of her bra. He pinched tight before he rolled them in his fingertips. She can’t even remember making the decision to press her arse against him, her body automatically bowing to find any kind of pressure it could. She grinned and bit her lip when she felt his erection against her, the thought of her turning him on was electric. She hummed a little to let him know she approved. 

His hands fell from her breasts and landed at her hips forcing them still, ‘I’m going to take your blindfold off now, Hermione,’ his voice was rougher, lower. She smiled inwardly at the thought that she had inflicted some kind of torture on him too.

‘Are you ready for me to see what you really want?’ 

‘Yes,’ she hissed, trying to push her hips back and inflict more revenge against his hard length. 

The hands around her hips tightened in a warning pulse, sending a little flicker of pain as his fingertips dug into her hip bones, ‘Use your colours,’ he whispered rough into her ear. 

‘Green,’ she swallowed as she lost his presence at her neck, the warmth against her back evaporated and his hands slipped away from her hips. It should have settled the nerves tickling along her body, but the absence of him was just as strong as his presence, the anticipation of the touch almost as powerful as the touch itself, and not knowing when or where he would touch her next sent little sparks along her spine. A soft brush at the base of her spine forced her body straighter. A gasp escaped her lips, his touch pinpointing her sensitivity as if he could sense it.

It was a fleeting moment, she felt a tugging against the material covering her eyes and then it fell from her face. She kept her eyes closed, trying to commit to memory the intensity of his smell so close to her face. The loss of the material freed her eyes, she kept them shut but they felt the magical tendrils of the mirror removing the weight of her eyelids. 

‘Open your eyes, Hermione,’ his rough grumbling voice broke through. 

She lifted her eyes and slowly the attic room focused around her. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the mirror, where she watched herself smile back at her. Her chest sat out a little farther than Hermione’s felt, her bottom pushed back a little harder. Hermione had to admit her reflection wore the skimpy little outfit well, she pushed out her own chest and bottom to match, she wasn’t going to be defeated by a reflection. 

Just behind her own image stood Draco, wearing the same clothes as the man standing behind her, a dark black shirt rolled up to the elbows and dark black immaculately tailored suit trousers, but she knew she couldn’t trust the reflection Draco to represent the real one. The dangerous smirk that crept across his face paired with a quick almost imperceptible wink told her she was right. 

She broke contact with him, a little intimidated in his lustful gaze as his eyes roamed down her body, a little part of her hoping that the Draco behind her was staring at her with such intensity too. She gazed around the room in the reflection, the creaky wooden chair they usually used for the tests was transformed into a deep burgundy leather armchair. The rich chesterfield a long way off the rackety bare shape of the simple dining chair. 

As if the mirror Draco understood what she was thinking (she supposed that he did) he lifted his wand from behind his leg and pointed it at the chair behind him, refusing to take his eyes off her. The armchair rumbled along the floor, trailing across the wood. The chair slammed up against the back of her thighs, and it hit her that the Draco behind her must have really moved the chair with his magic too. She lost her balance and fell down seated on the chair, the leather warm and smooth against the bare skin of her lower lips. It occurred to her that while Draco stood behind her, she couldn’t really trust what he would do, she could see a Draco in the mirror, and to some extent, he must reflect what the real Draco was doing. 

...Right?

* * *

It was getting harder and harder to keep his hands off her, watching himself standing behind her in the mirror while he could feel her in front of him almost finished him. His cock throbbed painfully in his trousers, begging for him to release it and just fuck the witch until she screamed. But he was being careful, he wouldn’t break from the actions of the mirror until he was sure he knew what she wanted from him. 

The mirror version of Draco spun the seat she was sitting on, so Draco followed in suit, staying as close in time as he could to his shadow. The chair now sat face on to him, sideways to the mirror. Hermione took her eyes off the mirror to look at him for a moment. 

‘Don’t look at me, look at them,’ he commanded, nodding his head towards the glass. She didn’t hesitate and her immediate obedience sent a shock through his cock, but he ignored it. 

Instead, he watched the mirror Hermione stand up from the chair and lay herself out over one of the arms, her chest lying flat against the back of the chair, conveniently the same height as the arms. 

Draco bit his lip as he thought of the view he would have of her in that position. He stepped forward and watched her beautiful brown eyes look up at him, the little spark of innocence not enough to hide the lust pooling in the deep black of her pupils. He couldn’t fool him with her act of innocence now, he’d long since seen past her frumpy uniformed angel facade. He leaned over her and placed his hands on either side of the armchair, closing her in with his body, ‘Well, are you going to be a good girl and lay yourself out for me?’ 

She wiggled a little in the seat while he spied movement in the corner of his eye, the mirror Hermione had thrown her head back, pushing all of her delightful curls from her face, smiling excitedly at their progression. He straightened his body and let Hermione move while he watched the woman in the mirror wiggle her hips teasingly at him. He watched himself move closer to her, and he did the same. Re-focusing on _his_ Hermione who just pressed her chest against the chair. 

He groaned when he saw how little of her was covered by the tiny school skirt. If he was to lean a few inches down he would see everything she had. If he was to drop to his knees he could pull her pussy into him and smash his tongue into her. If he took a step forward he could pull out his cock and slam it into her until she squealed for him. But he stood still and cast his half-open eyes to the mirror. 

The Hermione in the mirror smiled wickedly as she pulled up her skirt, and pushed her ass higher into the air. A growl rippled through his throat when he looked back at the real Hermione, her little hands pulling at the material covering her. 

It was too fucking much. 

* * *

It took nearly everything Hermione had not to put pressure on the pads of her feet. Just a little bit of pressure and she would bounce against the chair, the leather pushing hard against her. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would be better than tilting her hips upward and feeling his eyes on her. She wanted him to see, the mirror was enough evidence of that, but feeling his eyes on her would push her arousal to nearly painful limits. 

‘So that’s what you want? You want me to see? Show me.’ 

His voice pushed the last bit of resistance she had, she pulled the skirt right up to her waist and tilted her hips. She looked to the mirror eager to see his reaction, she hadn’t worn any knickers, distinctly remembering that detail from his first fantasy. The moment she was exposed to him he let out a staggered breath. His fists clenched by his side, and he crumbled to the floor. 

A sudden cold wind caught the damp between her legs, startling her only for a moment before she pushed herself back towards his blow, chasing even the slightest sensation against her clit.

‘Beautiful,’ he mumbled against the soft flesh of her thighs, forcing a ripple through her legs. He latched onto the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, sucking it into his mouth in a rough kiss. She swallowed as he pulled back, giving her a small scrape of teeth as the flesh pulled out of his mouth, ‘and so wet for me already.’

She closed her eyes as her clit prickled to attention at the thought that he could tell she was aroused for him. She loved it, lying here vulnerable to him. He could see everything, while he was still fully clothed. Her cheeks blushed, a little embarrassment creeping into her face and mingling with the desire. Part of her wanted to be stuck in this moment, but the other bigger and more dangerous part wanted to reveal more to him. 

She felt Draco’s hands grip the soft flesh of her thighs, pushing them farther apart on the chair. She instantly took the hint, shuffling her legs on the armchair to spread herself wider. She felt his hands at the back of her knees, his thumbs kneading her legs as he worked his way up. She pushed against her foot, moving farther back into his touch, a silent plea. 

Her eyes fluttered open just in time to see the Draco in the mirror with his hand raised above the flesh of her ass. She only had time to gasp before the man behind her connected his palm with her skin. Her body shuffled up the chair with the force, pushing her mons against the armchair in a teasing not quite enough motion. She tilted her hips back down, trying to connect her clit to the chair below her. 

His hand crept in under her belly and tugged upward, pulling her ass back up off the chair. She chuckled against her, ‘oh no, Granger. I own that now.’ 

The thought was intoxicating- she’d given herself up to him, he was in control, he possessed the thudding between her legs, the stiffness of her nipples rubbing up against the thin mesh of her bra. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and sucked it, delighting in the anticipation. He kissed the inside of her thigh while his hand rubbed circles into the delicate pink skin. She pushed herself back harder against his hand, trying to wordlessly beg him for more. He tightened his grip and rolled her muscles in his palm slowly, ‘use your colours, Hermione. I want to hear you admit that you want it,’ he whispered against her inner thigh, dangerously close but abusively far from her pulsing clit. 

‘Green,’ she breathed, ‘definitely green.’ 

She heard him snicker softly against her and she didn’t need to imagine the smirk plastered over his face, the mirror Draco was doing an excellent job of showing her just how amusing he found her. She was reminded of who it was currently gazing into her, she saw the disdainful way he used to look at her. Her cheeks heated again, feeling ashamed of how much she was enjoying it, but the shame only heightened the electricity between her legs. 

Another smack landed against her flesh, and she let out a little squeal of surprise. As the skin tingled she thought about the first time she watched this. When she wasn’t in the scene but merely a spectator, when he played with the reflected version of her but stared at the real her. Not for the first time, Hermione wondered if the reflection could sense that she liked him watching her, the effect ten-fold now that she was bent over an armchair in front of him. 

‘Good girl. Now count for me.’ 

She’d seen this game in her research. Her heart skipped a little with excitement as she whispered back, ‘one.’ 

‘Louder,’ his voice boomed through her body, loud, commanding and impossible to argue with. Another loud crack rang out through the room as his hand connected with her flesh. 

‘Two!’ her surprise spoke for her, forced out with the pressure of his hand. 

‘That’s a good girl,’ Draco’s fingers slid between her lips, spreading the dampness between her thighs and catching the little spark generated by his praise and lighting a fire. Her eyes shut and her mouth opened in surprise while a pleasurable moan formed in her throat, ‘see it’s much better when you do things properly, isn’t it?’ 

She didn’t get to reply, he brushed slow circles over her with his fingertips that pushed her to the limits of what she could take. This had been building from the minute she pulled on this outfit for him in the morning, staying with her while she listened to footsteps coming up the stairs, while she sat on his floor, knees wide with her cunt only inches from the floor, waiting on his answer. She moaned out as his touch ravelled up the coils of pleasure so tightly wound it was almost painful. He kept her hanging just on the precipice of coming, so she pushed her hips down into his hand, and tried to grind against it. She immediately knew it was a mistake when his hand disappeared as quickly as it had come, ‘Who knew you’d be such a needy little thing, Granger?’ 

Her body fell limp with her ruined pleasure, a physical expression of the frustration she felt inside. She opened her eyes and met Draco’s through the mirror. There was no way of knowing if the self-satisfied smile was on both of their faces, but she had a sneaky suspicion that the Draco behind her was just as pleased with himself. 

The reflection’s hand shot in a quick-fire motion, slamming against her ass and she watched the skin ripple with the force. She hissed as the tension started building again, her clit sparking just as surely as the skin across her backside. 

She looked up and put all the fire she could into her eyes and pointed it directly at his reflection hoping she could somehow communicate her anger at having her pleasure denied to him kneeling behind her, ‘ _three_ ,’ she growled.

She felt his presence move away from her, but the Draco in the mirror stood still, gently stroking her rear while his smirk slowly fell into a dark expression. Hermione felt her own face fall, her frustration suddenly dissipating in the face of the daunting questions appearing in her mind. 

‘Are you getting cheeky with me, Granger?’ His voice rumbled along her back, low and menacing. His kind praise forgotten. She suddenly felt even more exposed than she already was, ‘You’re going to have to pay for that.’ 

A trickle of fear ran down her spine, it suddenly seemed...unpredictable. She should have felt ashamed that the fear attached itself onto her desire like a cloud to the silver lining. Each one complimenting the other. 

She heard the ruffling of clothing, but she didn’t dare look back at him. Her body sat frozen while she watched the mirror Draco stand and pull his eyes from her. In her peripheral vision, she saw one of the real Draco’s knees lean on the main seat of the armchair. She glanced in the mirror to see he was towering over to the side of her. She was scared to look at him. She pulled her eyes from the mirror too, she couldn’t even handle his reflection. She stared down into the burgundy leather below her face but her cunt tingled with anticipation of what he would do next. 

She flinched when she felt his hand rub across her lower back, joined by his other hand when it reached her bottom. He dug his fingers into the muscles of her ass, and he squeezed, rolling the flesh up into his hands. She blushed as soon as she felt the air against the tiny little hole she had never let anyone else see before. Excitement tickled it’s way down her spine and along her lower lips, but it was fleeting. He released his grip and they bounced back into position. 

One of his hands disappeared entirely, leaving the other stroking the sensitive skin on her backside. It reappeared at her neck, slowly creeping in to sit flat against it, but with no pressure, ‘Colour?’ 

She swallowed against his hand, the most enticing current of fear mixed with her desire, but she trusted him not to take it too far, ‘Green.’ 

‘Count,’ he grunted. 

She nodded her head against his hold, and his hand came slapping down against her. 

‘One,’ he didn’t wait to deliver the next one this time, ‘two,’ her eyes widened in surprise, she hadn’t expected them to come so quickly this time around, ‘four, five, six.’ He frequently changed which side he struck, but it was still becoming harder for her to keep her body still, it naturally wanting to pull away from the pain, ‘seven, eight, nine,’ tears started to prickle at her eyes, and the stinging was almost impossibly intense, ‘ten.’ The last number came out more like a squeak. She collapsed a little in his arms but he jerked her head up with his hold on her neck, still light, but enough to show a presence and send a thrill through her body. The most surprising thing of it all was once the mind-wiping sting began to clear, Hermione noticed the heartbeat between her legs matched the beat along her inflamed skin. 

She whined against him when she felt his hand slip between her legs and roughly circle his fingers around her lips. She heard a distinct grunt, and she involuntarily responded with her own at the thought he was enjoying having her like this. She tried her best to keep her body still while he worked her, but each whine was coming closer and closer together. His hand snaked up her neck and she opened her mouth to suck two of his fingers inside, eagerly swiping her tongue along them, losing her taste buds in the wrinkles of his fingertips. He hummed as she grabbed onto his wrist, holding his hand inside her mouth, ‘You see, it’s much nicer if you play nice…’ he wasn’t wrong. The intensity between her legs was unmatched, ‘Do you think you’ve learned your lesson? Should I let you come?’ 

Hermione felt him line his fingers up with her entrance, her eyes opened wide when she felt the intrusion inside of her. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her at a frantic pace and she squealed against the fingers in her mouth. Her clit tightened the more his fingers moved inside of her, his thumb hovered dangerously below her clit, all it would take to make her come was a slight pressure from it, but he withheld. 

He tugged at her neck, forcing her eyes to him. He looked calm, and collected on the outside, in control, but his silver eyes flashed with fire, ‘Answer me, Hermione. Should I let you come?’ His voice gave him away just as surely as his eyes. 

‘Mmmhmm,’ She nodded her head frantically even with his fingers in her mouth, ‘mmm hmmm.’ 

Suddenly he pulled everything away, and she groaned against his fingers. Her body tried to automatically chase his hand but she tried desperately to keep control. She hadn’t realised her body had gone as tight until it relaxed into its frustration, another long groan escaping her lips. 

‘Look in the mirror.’ 

She didn’t even think, she blindly obeyed. The Hermione in the mirror was squirming against Draco, his fingers driving into her furiously while her orgasm dripped down his arm. He smiled wickedly at her, the reflection’s eyes connected darkly to her while she watched herself writhe against the chair. 

‘You haven’t earned that yet witch,’ his hand stroked across the burning skin on her backside, ‘Ask me how you earn it.’ 

‘How?’ she mumbled, surprised she was capable of speech at all with his fingers still in her mouth. 

He used his hands to lift her body up a few inches from the chair, she put pressure on her feet, allowing him to turn her ass towards the mirror, ‘look, Hermione.’ 

She looked over her shoulder to see her flaming red skin on her arse staring back at her. It shouldn't have sent a rush to her clit to see the evidence of his control written over her skin, but it did. 

‘See that beautiful red arse? That’s the first step.’ 

She swallowed, ‘What’s the next step?’ she said quietly. 

He laughed, ‘That all depends on you. Keep looking.’ 

A thought drifted into her consciousness, a quick picture playing like a GIF. The dangerous little video replayed in her head and weaved its way into her brain and set up residence. She made the mistake of meeting Draco’s eyes in the mirror as soon as the image set up in her head. A glimmer flickered in his eye in the mirror and he looked positively ravenous as he stood up tall and slowly started undoing his belt. 

She watched the scene unfold in front of her. The punishment she had picked for herself. She watched herself open her mouth, eagerly sticking out her tongue while mirror Draco smiled down at her disdainfully, stroking his cock in his hands. 

‘Is that what you want, Hermione?’ the sound of a belt buckle behind her, ‘You want me to shut that cheeky little mouth up?’ 

She did. Oh she really fucking did.

* * *

If Draco hadn't made a point of closing his eyes while she looked in the mirror he would have sworn his fantasy had seeped into hers somehow. He looked down into her eyes while he pulled his cock from his trousers. She had the _nerve_ to look up at him with her huge innocent eyes while she stuck her tongue out ready for him. He felt his balls tighten and it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done not to just shove himself into her mouth and come down her throat then and there

‘You needn’t look at me like that, Granger. As if you’re not choking on my cock in that fucking mirror,’ he said as he lined himself up to her tongue. She must have liked what he said, because the second his head touched her tongue she swirled it around him, and sucked his head into a messy kiss. _Fuck_. 

He’d learned so much about her tonight, his favourite was by far how she liked him to talk to her, ‘that’s right, take it into your swotty little mouth,’ he said as he pushed farther into her damp heat. She groaned and he felt the vibrations all the way down his cock. He pushed his fingers into her hair and closed his eyes for a moment, letting her take over while she eagerly pushed her head back and forward. He’d dreamt about her sucking his cock since he was sixteen, and he’d never have guessed she’d be this eager, spreading her red lipstick all along his shaft. He liked her marking him, just as surely as he had marked the beautiful pink arse lying against the chair’s arm. 

She shuffled herself up higher on the chair to take more of him in. He felt himself hit against the back of her throat and he almost collapsed over, his balls tightening hard in response, ‘You like this don’t you?’

‘Mmm hmm,’ she answered against his cock, sending another set of vibrations through him. Fucking tease. 

She did it again, pushing him right to the back of her throat, ‘You’re a good fucking girl, Granger.’ he mumbled while he pulled his eyebrows almost painfully hard together. 

She shimmied her bottom up the seat, and he noticed she was grinding against the leather of the seat. His fingers tightened hard into her curls, she was enjoying this, getting off on this. He growled somewhere deep in his throat and began thrusting against her mouth, forcing her to rub herself harder against the chair, ‘You’re getting off on this aren’t you, Granger? Watch yourself.’ 

Her eyes fought to the corners as she watched him fuck her mouth in the mirror, she frowned at the image in pleasure and began grinding against the chair at an even more frantic pace. He couldn’t keep this up much longer, he slipped his other hand under her chin, and held her head still by her hair as he pulled his cock out of her mouth. A single strand of her saliva ran from her bottom lip to his cock, still connecting them despite their new distance. 

She must have forgotten herself for a moment because she looked up at him with her innocent dark eyes and licked the saliva from her lower lip, ‘Did I do okay?’ 

He could barely think past the sight of her looking up at him for assurance, for praise, while his cock was still so close to her mouth. He stood panting at her in shock for a moment, trying to reset his brain and commit the image of her face so close to his dick to memory. 

His hand acted before he did, he swiped his finger across her lower lip, and he was brought back to that first time with the mirror, he was living his real-life fantasy, and he couldn’t fucking believe that she was here with him, enjoying it. She sucked his thumb into her mouth and licked it with her tongue, forcing him out of his memories and into reality. Hermione Granger had just sucked his cock...eagerly.

Draco softened his grip on her hair and slipped his hand to the back of her neck smoothing down her curls as he went. He couldn’t help himself, he pulled his finger out of her now pink lips, the red long vanished. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers with a surprising gentleness given his cock was screaming at him for attention. She kissed him back tenderly until he pulled his lips from hers, ‘You did good, Hermione,’ another kiss, ‘so good.’ 

She moaned wantonly against his lips when he kissed her again, his praise clearly having the desired effect. Her moan sent a painful shot of arousal through his cock, and he shoved his tongue into her mouth, delighting when she groaned and sucked it, massaging it with her own.

He pulled away and smiled wickedly at her trying to follow his mouth as he backed it away. ‘I think you’ve earned a little something for being such a good girl, Hermione.’ 

* * *

She felt his hands tickle against her belly before they latched onto her hips. One quick powerful tug backwards pulled her to the edge of the chair’s arm. He held her upright for a moment while she adjusted her feet to plant them both firmly on the floor. She went to push herself up off the chair but his hand landed flat against her back keeping her down. 

‘I didn’t tell you to move yet, Granger. I want you like this,’ she felt his foot tap her heel twice, so she took the hint and moved it, ‘spread open for me.’ 

A little sting of excitement fluttered across her cunt, settling there like little pins and needles while she waited on his touch. She jumped when she felt his hand brush against her inner thigh, ‘colour?’ 

‘Green,’ she replied instantly.

It trailed higher until he brushed the front of her lips, frustratingly close but too far from her clit, ‘colour?’

‘Green.’ 

His hand rolled back, teasingly brushing against the skin between her legs making her shiver against it. His hand didn’t stop, it kept moving, barely touching her skin when he ran his knuckles up the inside of her cheeks. He didn’t delve deep, almost innocently avoiding the deep valley between her arsecheeks. Her face immediately reddened. She hadn’t stopped thinking about this since she watched him do it in the mirror. She thought she would never have let anyone near it before, but the way she watched herself writhe under him in the mirror excited her like she never thought it would have. 

He ran his hand up and down the gap between her cheeks gently, giving her time to decide. After a few moments, he asked the question she was dreading having to admit to, ‘colour?’

She made her decision, she was going to say yellow.

‘Green.’ It tumbled out past her lips as if she had just swallowed a cauldron full of Veritaserum. To her amazement, she didn’t regret it. If she had of pussyed out of this it never would have left her mind, the sight of him smiling at her while he pushed the diamond into her arsehole would be burned into the back of her eyelids forever. 

‘Good girl.’

She barely had time to enjoy his praise before his tongue fell down on her, licking and kissing its way up her thighs, ‘You’re going to let me taste you, aren’t you?’ 

‘Yessss’ she breathed, chest rising heavy up from the armchair. 

‘Of course, you are, dirty little witch,’ she shuddered against him when his tongue landed flat across her clit, only to be dragged back. Slowly, too slow. Her back arched trying to get closer to his tongue. He took the hint, his tongue probed teasingly before he pushed. She couldn’t believe it, she had Draco fucking Malfoy’s tongue inside of her and she loved it. It made her feel wicked, oddly powerful but helpless to him simultaneously. He pulled it back out while she lay with her mouth lying open, the thudding in the small bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex crying out for attention. 

‘Mmm, you taste delicious,’ She felt something push inside of her again and she hummed as it pushed into her, slow and farther than his tongue. His fingers pressed up hard against a soft sensitive spot inside of her and she cried as he slammed his fingers against it in a furious rough rhythm, each touch sending her clit into an even tighter torture. 

He pulled his fingers out and she whined at the loss. She took her opportunity to catch her breath, while he stood up behind her. He leaned over her body, deliberately pressing his hard cock against her folds, teasing the clit he must have _known_ was almost painful. She pushed her hips farther back into him, looking for some, any kind of friction or pressure. 

He slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her body up. Her eyes opened at the sudden movement to find his fingers in front of her lips, ‘taste yourself,’ he commanded. 

A wave of pleasure wafted over her abdomen at the thought, she opened her mouth and let him slip his fingers inside, cleaning his fingers of her essence. As soon as her tongue stroked his fingers he thrust his hips hard against her, forcing a muffled cry out of her throat. It was a cruel and harsh tease, and one he repeated for two or three more thrusts, each one more punishing than the last. Enough to spike her arousal to almost impossible states, but not consistent or direct enough to relieve her. 

He suddenly pulled away, leaving her to fall back against the hard leather. Before she had time to process anything she felt something flicker punishingly against her clit. She instantly cried out and hoped to God Draco remembered to silence the room. The feeling between her legs intensified until she pressed her eyes closed so tight it almost hurt when she thought of everyone knowing what she was doing and with whom but she ignored it when the flickering turned to a light sucking, her orgasm delayed again. 

‘Did you like that, Hermione?’ he said mockingly into her inner thigh. 

‘Yeah,’ she answered, almost dreamily if it wasn’t for the desperation in her voice. 

‘I think I know something else a dirty girl like you likes,’ he grabbed her outer thighs and shoved them tight together, putting a teasing amount of pressure against her folds. Her eyes snapped open, and a shot of electricity ran down to her clit. She couldn’t suppress her reaction to it. 

He held her legs closed at her knees, hugging around them so she couldn’t move, she couldn’t wriggle away from him if she wanted to, ‘Show me.’ 

She hesitated, trying to hold back the furious blush that spread along her face and threatened to poison the rest of her skin. 

‘I can simply make you look in the mirror, Hermione. You know what I’ll see.’ 

He was right. She carefully unfolded her arms from underneath herself and placed them on either one of her arse cheeks, wincing slightly at the feel of her palm against the reddened skin, it didn’t help. As a matter of fact it simply made it worse. 

‘That’s it, good girl. Show me.’ 

His voice gave her the courage to force her hands apart, and with it expose the tight little asshole in the middle. It was humiliating having him see it so close. He had already seen it in the mirror before, but it wasn’t the same, she wasn’t the one holding herself open to his eyes. She glanced in the mirror and she knew what she would see. Her reflection mirrored her exactly, her hands in the same position on her backside, the only difference was the bottom lip sucked into her mouth, and the fact that the mirror Draco was in a much more compromising position. 

It didn’t take the real Draco to follow suit. Something soft and wet slowly dragged up from her cunt, or what he could access of it with her legs slammed together, and worked its way higher. She held her breath until it made contact with the sensitive little hole at the top of her arse. 

She shrieked, and with it, exhaled the last of her dignity. His tongue started slowly stroking across it while it involuntarily puckered and released. His arms kept her still while he continued his invasion. He took a long slow purposeful stroke and then he spoke, his voice like gravel, ‘you see, Granger. I see you for what you are now.’ 

With it, he spat against her asshole and continued his ministrations. Hermione’s eyes widened as she tried to make sense of the new sensation, her squirming only made the arousal between her legs worse, her wetness spreading to her inner thighs he was squeezing her so tight. 

She felt her own shame and embarrassment in the way she wanted to squeeze her arse cheeks back together, but she held it open for him. Not embarrassed enough to run away from the pleasant feeling he was giving her. 

‘You act all innocent,’ slow lick, ‘but I know what you really are,’ sloppy kiss, ‘you’re a dirty bitch who likes having her arse licked, aren't you?’ 

A moan erupted from her. She liked how he talked to her. No one dared talk to her like that, but him. Anyone else she would have punched, but ironically he was the only one that made her soaking wet with his words.

‘Tell me. Tell me you like it.’ 

She shoved her face into the leather, too ashamed to show it, ‘I like it.’ 

He removed his tongue off her and she fucking cursed him, ‘What was that I can’t hear you?’ 

‘I like it!’ she said again, her face no doubt as red as her arse. 

He didn’t say anything, he grabbed her thighs and squeezed them together tighter in a pulse, sending her clit into false hope at the almost-stimulation. But he swiped across her arsehole again, and her curses for him were forgotten, replaced with a whimpered, ‘Draco, Fuck!’ He chuckled against her arsehole, which served to not only annoy her, but increase the stimulation. She wasn’t sure which emotion to tack onto, so she dissolved into her pleasure instead and stopped questioning it. 

‘Please…’

‘Please what?’ 

‘Please, Draco.’ 

‘What do you want, golden girl? I won’t do it until you ask me to’ 

What a complete and utter bastard. Fuck him, ‘Fuck me!’ 

‘Ohh you want my cock do you?’ 

‘Yes!’ she answered a little too angrily. 

He smacked against the back of her thigh, the flesh giggling and moving against her cunt. She yelped and then she added a whimpered, ‘please.’ 

‘Since you asked so nicely...’ his hands released her legs, and she gave up fighting him. The pulse was too much, so she spread her legs wider and pushed her ass up towards him, hoping he wouldn’t make her wait. 

She felt something smooth slide between her folds meeting no resistance. He hissed and she knew it must have been his cock. She wiggled her hips a little for him, hoping he would take the hint and push it up to touch her clit. 

‘So fucking needy and wet for me,’ he growled as he pushed his cock forward and rubbed it against her clit. She circled her hips on it, using the pressure she had long since been denied to seek a little relief, ‘you’re a cock-hungry little witch aren’t you?’ 

‘Yes,’ she whimpered into the leather when he lined himself up to her entrance. With one smooth glide he was inside of her. She took a deep breath as she adjusted to his size, she was glad she was so wet. 

This time, he didn’t tease her. Thank the fucking Lord. He pulled out quickly and pushed into her hard, slamming against a sensitive spot somewhere inside of her that felt good. He set a furious pace, his hands clinging on to her suspender belt to pull her back harder against him. 

‘Do you hear that Hermione? Do you hear how wet you are for me?’ 

Sure enough she could hear his hips slapping against her, and the sound of her body desperately trying to cling onto his cock.

Her belt was tight to her stomach, adding a little tinge of pain she wasn’t conscious enough to care about. All she could feel was him driving into her, forcing little moans out with every breath. 

‘D...dd...dd….Draco,’ she managed to moan through his violent thrusts. 

He moaned at the sound of his name, ‘Maybe one day,’ he rubbed his thumb against the moisture he’d left at her arsehole, ‘you might let me fuck you here,’ he applied a slight threatening pressure, ‘I’d like to see swotty little Granger come with a cock up her arse.’ 

‘Fuck!’ she squealed, his thumb felt heavenly against her. She didn’t have the words to ask for what she wanted, so she merely called out the word, ‘green.’ 

He instantly knew what she meant, because the slight pressure became harder, he slowed his thrusts just a little to allow her body to take him in. She groaned when the tip of his thumb slipped into her arsehole. He outright moaned in a rough gravelly voice, and pushed his thumb a few centimetres deeper into her. Hermione couldn’t make a sound, she could barely even fucking breathe, each of his thrusts forcing all of the wind out of her mouth. 

He slowed again, and she felt the loss of his hands at her suspenders, only to feel it immediately in her hair. Her head tugged back hard and she hissed at the pleasure blending into the pain, ‘The mirror, Granger. Look in the mirror,’ he ground out against her ear, ‘I want you to watch. I want you to see yourself bent over this sofa for me, enjoying every minute of my cock.’ 

Her eyes opened slowly, an effort to keep them open while her body was caught in the throws just before an orgasm. She looked in the mirror and watched herself, her tits bouncing at the power of the man’s thrusts behind her, his cock pounding in and out of her, his hand bent awkwardly between their bodies as he played with her arse. He let go of her hair and she caught herself with her hands on the armchair, leaning down and putting her face against the smooth leather, but she didn’t take her eyes off them. She didn’t take her eyes off his hand laying flat over her arse, thumb planted inside of her, of the pleasure screwing up in his face as he enjoyed her body, took his pleasure from her. 

‘Can...I...come?’ was all she could do while he slammed against her already sore skin on her arse. 

‘If...you...say...please,’ He started increasing the pace and force of his thrusts again making it even harder for her to speak- she had a feeling he was doing it on purpose. 

‘Pleaaasee’ she sang, hoping he would say yes, because either way she was hurtling towards it. He opened his mouth but she already knew what he was going to say, ‘Pleaase, Draco.’ 

He reached around and slid his hand onto her clit, a hand pleasuring her from the front and the back. He simply held the pressure against it, tight and cruel, ‘Come...for me.’ 

She was so wound up that little bit of pressure was all it took. 

* * *

_Fuck fuck fuck_. 

She was going to be the fucking death of him. He held her in a tight grip, her wet pussy in one hand and her arse in the other. He held his orgasm back with everything he had. He’d wanted to come in her almost as soon as he entered her. His finger was in her arse and his cock in her cunt, he’d dreamed about this for years, an impossibly reality that was now starting to spasm around his cock. 

She let out a god awful wail and he let go. The pleasure swept right from his balls up his cock as he gave one last slam into her body. He shut his eyes tight and tried to survive through her pussy clamping down on him, holding him in while his orgasm travelled up his cock in bursts of pleasure that turned the black of his eyelids to white. 

Somewhere she was saying something to him, or maybe she was just whining he couldn’t possibly tell in the sensory overload playing out in his brain. He devoted his concentration to keeping the strength in his legs and arms to stop himself falling on top of her while he grunted out the last of his release. 

He only realised now there wasn’t enough air in the room as he panted over her back. She seemed to be having a similar reaction, her back heaving off the chair. He laughed into himself for a minute, neither of them had even managed to get naked. 

She shuffled a little under him and he cringed, his cock too sensitive. He forced all his strength to his legs and stood straight- or as close as he could to straight- and pulled out of her. He lifted his wand from his pocket and cast a quick scourgify over both of them. It wouldn’t clean all of it but it would get them to the bath at least. 

* * *

  
Once she had finished lecturing him on apparating post-orgasm, which he informed her is perfectly legal, she sunk down under the bubbles with him anyway. She shyly tried to sit at the other side of the bathtub. He wasn’t having it. 

‘Oh no you don’t, Granger.’ He reached up and tilted her hips turning her back towards him. She lost her balance a little and was easily convinced into sitting down in the water in front of him. 

She hissed as the hot water touched the flesh of her arse and he just chuckled, ‘I did offer to heal it.’ 

‘I still don’t want you to!’ she said as she leaned her back against his chest, just like he’d wanted her to. He had to admit he got a little sense of pride and satisfaction of having marked her. Not that anyone would, but if they ever saw her arse red and sensitive they would know the sexy kinky side no one ever expected from a girl like Granger. He liked that she was keeping this little secret with him. She’d sit down at the dining table tomorrow morning and eat her breakfast, but she would wiggle in her seat, make eye contact with him, and they both would pass a cheeky little knowing glance at the secret she hid under her frumpy jumpers and well-below the knee-length skirts. 

She breathed and relaxed completely into his chest. He smiled and kissed her hair, allowing himself a moment to breathe in the waft of coconut next to his face. He hadn’t been able to take the smile off his face since they’d arrived in his room. He’d laughed at her ridiculous suggestion he turned around while she got undressed, knowing full well she was about to be naked in the bath with him anyway, and what did she have that he hadn’t already at least touched. He had his tongue pressed up to her arsehole after all. But he offered no complaints, holding his hands up and turning around. He didn’t need to understand Hermione Granger logic, he just needed to provide her with the space to decide what made her comfortable, he hoped they would reach a point where she never felt uncomfortable with him, but he’d waited years for her, he would wait the rest of his life if he asked her to. 

‘So about this giving me _everything_ I’ve ever wanted…’ he brushed his fingers along her arm gently in a soothing motion. 

She turned her head and giggled against the skin of his arm, ‘We’ll just have to wait and see about the rest.’ 

_Muggles and their bloody time-wasting_. He rolled his eyes, and was glad she couldn’t see him or hear his thoughts. He would likely earn himself a slap and a lecture, maybe a laugh if he was lucky, but with her lying against his arms, her soft kiss pressed up against his bicep, he would wait. But they both knew it was only a matter of time before her hand glittered with a beautifully emerald green heirloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED THIS!  
> I'm so sorry it took such a long wait but I hope the result was worth it! 
> 
> Please please let me know what you thought I would be so so happy to hear what you all have to say about it! (even if it's just to tell me you found it hot- I want to see those as well!)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who requested this second chapter and I, of course, have to dedicate it to you and my best kinky friend DirtyMudblood! 
> 
> Lots of love,  
> Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> So...I've been toying with whether or not to post this one- but fuck it! Why the hell not?! 😋 I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> I breathe to hear what you all think so please please drop me a comment I hold them all very dear. Constructive criticism makes me a better writer- so it is very welcome as well. Just be kind :) 
> 
> Lots of Love, 
> 
> Comfort <3


End file.
